


Hold Close Your Light (And Don't Let Go)

by Phoenix_of_Athena



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: 2CT, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And I Really Want To Do This One Right, Blood and Gore, Brotherly Love, Brotherly!Ciel, But He'll Stay At oCiel's Side Even If All He Can Do Is Watch, Character Death, Gen, Ghost!Ciel, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I'm Not Used To Writing Multi-chapter Fics, POV rCiel, Sebastian didn't eat his soul, Slow To Update, fair warning, oCiel Is Self-Destructive And Nihilistic, rCiel Is Angry And Protective, rCiel Is Invisible And Intangible, rCiel's death was enough to summon the demon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_of_Athena/pseuds/Phoenix_of_Athena
Summary: Ciel Phantomhive dies, and his life is enough of a sacrifice to summon the demon.  His soul on the other hand...lingers.When Ciel wakes up, his younger brother is negotiating with a demon. His twin looks so small beside the black-garbed man, and so fierce as he bargains for his life.Ciel would give anything not to leave his brother on his own, but he's dead. He has nothing left to give.Ghost!Ciel





	Hold Close Your Light (And Don't Let Go)

Pain.

Everything ended in blinding, tearing pain.  It gripped him by the throat and dragged him under, crushing the breath from his lungs. 

He was too hot; too cold; he couldn’t think.

Distantly, he was aware of his brother screaming, _“Ciel!”_ and the stickiness that pooled around his body.  Then he wasn’t aware of anything.  There was blackness, as cold and dark as the grave.  His thin chest heaved as he gasped once; twice; no more.  Ciel Phantomhive was dead.

 

And then, slowly, he realized that he was conscious; that the blackness wasn’t so deep, but only the darkness behind his eyelids, and he blinked.  ~~~~

He could see, although nothing in sight made sense.  There was his brother, seated at a neat little table with a tall, dark man in the midst of utter carnage.  The caved-in torso of one of the cultists lay by Ciel’s pale bare feet on the filthy, blood-spattered floor.

“What?” he said, and his voice lacked an echo despite the cavernous room, fading even as it spilled from his lips.  Almost dreamlike, he found himself moving forward.  He reached out to his brother with one pale hand, only to stop short of touching him, distracted by the sight of his own fingers.  His hand was more than just pale, he realized as he raised it to his face; it held a faint glow, as if he had been wreathed in moonlight.  Mouth dropping into a small “o,” he gasped, and it didn’t hurt.  _Nothing_ hurt, even though every recent memory was tinged with pain.  And even though—he’d been _stabbed_.

Ciel’s hands flew to his chest, and he looked down.  His shirt hung open where the buttons had been torn, and what met his fingertips was far from the smooth skin he was accustomed to.  The ghastly wound he’d been given sat in the middle of his sternum, and when he prodded at it with his fingers, he found that it was deep enough to reveal his _insides._   He quickly pulled his hand away.

Trembling, Ciel stared down at himself.

He hardly felt, his skin seemed as faintly luminous as the glow of a distant candle in a darkened hall, and, he realized, the blood that stained his torso wasn’t quite red.  It seemed leeched of color, like a book cover left to sit for too long in the sun.  The red was faded, as was the skin of his hands when he studied them closely.  He was as pale as a…as a…as a ghost.  Ciel choked on a gasp, and realized to his horror that he had forgotten to breath in his study of himself.  That he hadn’t needed to.  He…he….  Ciel spun around, turning from his brother to face the altar in the center of the room, and his legs buckled beneath him.

That was him.  That was his _body_ , lying still and _mutilated_ on the altar. 

He was dead. 

He was actually… dead. 

Involuntary tears welled up in his eyes and a sob burned in his throat; curling on the floor with his forehead pressed against the stone, he choked on tears. 

He was dead. 

He was a _liar_.

He had promised his brother that they would both get out of here alive.  He had _promised._ Even if at the time he hadn’t truly believed it, he'd now left his little brother all alone; abandoned; the last other person in his family as dead as all the rest.  It overcame Ciel, the realization that he was a failure of a brother.   He was a failure, and he had wanted so much _more._   He had wanted to escape this place.  He had wanted to live.

Pitiful tears trailed down Ciel’s cheeks and vanished before they met the ground.  This was all too much.  It seemed impossible. 

Behind him, he heard the murmur of voices; he heard his brother’s voice:

“What about bringing the dead back to life?”

And he jolted, raising his head from the floor and _tipping_ , almost, onto his knees, moving weightlessly. 

“So you desire your older brother, yes, I expected that,” said the man.  His voice was very low and smooth, and it seemed to reverberate more than it should throughout the room.  “Very well,” he said, “I shall promise you a peaceful time filled with happiness.”

And Ciel was lost, but something in him ached, uncoiling with longing for the man’s words, for the image they presented.  Peace…and happiness…they seemed so desperately out of reach, but for a moment he couldn’t help but imagine it. 

“You’re lying,” his brother’s voice cut into the fantasy, and Ciel’s eyes found his twin’s round face masked with ire.  “You told me that once the ‘price to cross over’ has been paid, it can never return.  In other words, it’s impossible to bring the dead back to life.  You are incapable of turning back time….   _Just make him believe that a dead person is alive._   That is what you intended to do, isn’t it?  And it’s the only thing you _can_ do.” 

Ciel blinked, his mind racing as the dark man laughed, and said that he applauded Ciel’s twin. 

Just who was this man, that his younger brother even considered the possibility that he could raise the dead?  Or had Ciel’s death driven his brother to delusion?

“You are a very calm and perceptive boy,” said the man with a leer, “I’d never guess that you were the same boy who was wailing like a young babe just a moment ago.” 

And Ciel gasped as his brother exclaimed in outrage.  The two at the table argued over whether the truth even mattered, so long as the younger Phantomhive _believed_ Ciel to be alive.  But Ciel was incensed, because…how dare this man.  How _dare_ he make fun of his brother for _crying over Ciel’s death_.  Ciel felt a tongue of rage blaze up in his stomach, as his brother’s face flickered with emotion.

“I’ve made my decision,” the younger boy said, and Ciel’s gaze was riveted to his face.  “Demon,” he said.  _Demon._ “This is my first wish:

“You must never lie to me, no matter the circumstance!”

And Ciel was reeling, his knees brushing over the ground as he scrambled upright, thoughts in a whirl.  What had he said, _“the price to cross over can never return?”_   When they were talking about Ciel’s death. 

He was…he was only…a price. 

A piece of coin to be spent. 

And how?  For a demon?  An…actual _demon_.  Or… perhaps, instead, for his brother.  That might be a reason worth dying for.

And meanwhile the demon was laughing, telling his brother that the wish was granted; a sudden sigil of light flared up before his brother’s face, and the demon’s hand.

“You are able to restrain me by using the contract seal on your eye,” said the demon.  “Now then, you have two wishes remaining.”

And Ciel’s brother…he asked for revenge.  He asked for revenge, to kill the ones that had hurt their family with his own hands.  His shy and frail younger brother, who hid behind father’s and his coattails, wanted to kill the ones who had harmed them.  Ciel watched him clench his hands in his lap, watched him raise his eyes to the demon, and say “I don’t want to die without knowing,” and “You’re going to be my pawn.”  He watched as he demanded absolute obedience from the creature that Ciel’s life had been bartered away to summon.  The small boy’s back was straight, and his legs were smoothly crossed beneath the table; for a moment, looking at him, Ciel could almost see their father.  But then his brother said something about rest, and the demon lashed out with tendrils of blackness to hoist him into the air.

And Ciel moved without thinking, flinging himself forward as his brother cried out.  His hands swiped through the inky trails without purchase, and his momentum sent him tumbling through them and then the table as if he wasn’t there.  He landed feather-light upon the ground as his brother shouted at the demon.

Ciel had passed right through not only the table but what must have been some part of the demon himself, and he’d been completely insubstantial.  Perhaps the demon’s eyes had turned briefly away from his brother, but more likely Ciel only attributed that to himself out of desire.  Ciel was _here_ , looking up at his brother as the demon lowered him back into the chair, but he might as well not even exist at all.  If this was what being a ghost was…if he was powerless, still, to protect his twin, then why was he still here?  Ciel pulled his knees to his chest, sitting at the foot of the table and looking up at the two as they haggled.

“I know that I’m just a child,” his brother said. “I couldn’t do anything on my own.”  But Ciel looked up at his face and saw the determination behind the bruises and tear tracks.  He looked up and saw the boy who’d been ill enough one winter to be sent away to the countryside while his family worried. 

“Demon,” said that boy, “this is my last wish.  My third wish.  Until I’ve completed my revenge, you must _never_ betray me, but _protect_ me at all costs!”  And he folded his arms, and talked back to the demon.  He gestured with open hands, but exclaimed, “I can’t trust anyone anymore!”  

And the demon promised loyalty, and questioned his brother’s meaning.

“Sickness…” his brother said, and Ciel’s breath caught.  But then the younger twin demanded protection from only physical harm, and Ciel almost shouted; instead he grit his teeth, and couldn’t help but think about his brother’s health, although he understood the reasoning.

The contract’s seal flared, and the demon rose from his seat, stalking around the table to loom behind his brother’s chair.  Its voice was still deep and smooth as he listed the tenants of the contract and leaned forward to cup his brother’s face.

“…Once you have completed that revenge,” he said, “the moment the contract has been fulfilled…I will take your soul as compensation.”

And Ciel cried out, as a rush of cold swept over him.

“ _No!_ ” he said, “No, no!” 

He turned to his brother. 

“Don’t let him!” he exclaimed, “don’t accept it!  Haven’t we given _enough?!_ ” 

But his brother’s face went flat, even as Ciel pleaded his name with increasing desperation.

“I have no ambitions besides revenge,” said the younger twin to the demon, and referred to his own soul as if it were nothing; as if it was equal to the payment one gives to a servant.

“What happens to a soul that is eaten by you?” the boy did ask, and the demon replied:

“Nothing happens to it.  Without awaiting judgment…it simply disappears.”

And his little brother _smiled_ , for the first time Ciel had seen in so long.

“…That’s nice, isn’t it?” he said, “I think that’s good.  Continuing to be ‘Ciel’ forever would be too difficult for me, you know.”  And he looked at Ciel’s body.

“No…” Ciel whispered, voice shaking, “Please, you…just _you_ ….  _I_ want you to live, _please—!”_    But his brother couldn’t hear him, as he hadn’t been able to hear him since Ciel had died.

And then he mentioned the ring.

And Ciel was shaking his head, tears in his eyes.

 _“You don’t have to,”_ he said, “you don’t have to.”

“As expected of your sibling,” said the demon, “Congratulations.  The circle of the ring appears to have remained in his abdomen.” 

And he laid one finger on Ciel’s stomach.

On Ciel’s _corpse’s_ stomach. 

Ciel drifted close to his brother’s side and looked between him and the body.  He watched his little brother’s face crumple as tears welled over in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Ciel whispered, and brushed his hand intangibly against the other boy’s, “it’s okay.  So don’t—don’t cry.  P-please.  Please don’t—don’t cry.  You’re breaking my heart.”

And the demon said, “Shall I take the ring out?” and Ciel’s brother snarled.

“It’s fine!” he snapped, “ _Don’t touch him!_   This is…my duty.” 

Duty.  The words weighed heavy, like the last time that they had fallen from Ciel’s lips, the day they had been taken.  But the younger boy was trembling, shaking from shoulder to fingertip as he reached out for the knife still sticking from the corpse’s chest.  He gripped it, and he screamed, dragging it down Ciel’s body.  Ciel’s hands fluttered about his brother’s shoulders.

“Stop, _please_ ,” he said, “don’t do this to yourself.  Just let the demon do it, don’t just for my sake—!”

But the boy didn’t stop.  Not until the shaking became too much, and he fell into the table, his stomach rebelling and tears dripping from his nose to puddle amidst the bile. 

Ciel’s brother slid down the edge of the altar with weak legs and blood-covered arms, and the demon sighed at him as his brother sobbed. 

And then the demon with pristine white gloves laid the ring into the child’s blood-soaked hands and congratulated him.

 

“Congratulations, _Earl Ciel Phantomhive_ ,” said the demon, as Ciel’s finger’s slid insubstantially through his brother’s.   The lie hung in the space between them. 

“That’s right,” said the younger twin, “don’t ever call me by name again.  I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive.  From now on, saying my name so casually and standing tall before me is unforgivable for a servant!  From this day forth, you are to be my dog!”

Then the demon bowed before the boy, and Ciel’s brother turned back to the corpse whose eyes he had so gently closed. 

“Ciel…” he said to the body as Ciel stood beside him, “I’m sorry…I can’t bring you with me.”

“It’s okay,” Ciel said, “I understand.”

“I know I promised that we’d go home together,” his brother said tremulously, “but I’m sorry…” and Ciel clenched his fists.

“That’s not your fault,” he said, his hand slipping though his brother’s arm, “that was _my_ promise.  _I’m_ the one who left _you._   So don’t—don’t you _dare_ blame yourself for that!”  But his words weren’t heard, and his touch wasn’t felt.

“This is an order,” said the younger twin, “burn it.  The buildings, the corpses, everything.  Burn it all to ashes!” 

“I’ll stay with you,” Ciel promised, as the demon summoned fire into existence with a snap of his fingers.

“I’ll stay with you,” he promised, as his brother slapped away the demon’s hand, and walked with his back held straight, “I’ll never leave you, ever.  I’ll be with until the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have much to say. We don't see any effects on canon events yet, but we will, oh we will.  
> I don't really know how long this fic is going to be, but I gave it my best guess. I'm definitely not going to rewrite all of canon.


End file.
